Billionaire Contract Marriage For Heirs Novels & Stories

, he said exaggerating the last word. "I want to see him", I said. "No. We will go to my home. You will play the part of my nice wife. You can go tomorrow after our wedding night", he said. "I didn't sign up for wedding night. This is a contract. Not a real marriage", I said. "Stop talking. We are getting noticed. It is stipulated in the contract by the way. I need an heir. I have money. I'm not going to marry again for the sake of getting a child", he said.

I laughed slowly. " If I file you a divorce half of your family wealth get passed to me and I can get my child since in your father contract clauses there wasn't a place where was mentioned that I just have children" I still walked gently and then looked back at him immediately which he just gazed and watched with surprise written on his face boldly. " What wealth?" He asked. " The Smith's wealth " I said to him, going closer to him . As I came closer to him,I held on to his shirt romantically as he just looked at me with no single words from him at that point.

He exhaled deeply, his hands dropping to his sides as he sat back on his heels. For a moment, he stayed quiet, as if trying to gather his thoughts. "Getting married was the only way for me to regain access to my accounts," He began, his voice low. "The bank that holds my wealth, assets, inheritance...it's all tied to a contract my parents signed decades ago." I frowned, confusion knitting my brow. He dragged a hand through his hair, before he continued. "The contract states that none of us—me, my siblings, can continue accessing any of it unless we're married by the time we turn twenty-five."

I felt used, like a slut, a billionaire's slut. I looked at the marriage contract and tears dropped out of my eyes. I had no choice, even if I was to reject this, my family will forever mock me, I’ll be the laughing stock of the city, and I’ll miss an opportunity to be something in life, And I don’t think Mr. Vuitton would let me go so easily. Whatever reason he has behind our marriage, he was not intending on making it public, and according to the terms, it was going to last for as long as he wanted it to.

I've known him for a long time, and I could swear I knew everything about him but the fact I kept the contract marriage a secret, I felt guilty. I decided to tell him. “It's Stephanie” “What's up with her?” “She seems angry lately.” He laughed. “You know women. They get angry over reasons you don't even know” “Well, I know why she is”, I sipped from the whiskey glass. “I didn't tell you this but my grandfather's will gave me conditions.” I leaned into the bar. “That I marry. If I don't, Dan will be passed to Alexander.” I smirked, “And you know that Alexander is pretty good at this job.”

the other man said nervously, “you can’t keep delaying this. As the mafia lord of this city, you ought to have an heir. You know the family does not compromise when it comes to this, they’ll question your leadership if this is delayed.” “I know,” the first man snapped. “But I can’t trust any woman to just do this without creating a scandal.” “Well, then find someone who is desperate enough,” his associate muttered. “Marry her, get an heir, and after a year, you walk away. A simple contract marriage. That’s all you need.” My heart skipped a beat. A contract marriage? My mind spun. A man desperate for an heir. Money. A chance. I didn’t realize I’d shifted closer until my elbow knocked against

“You have five months left. Five. Months. And still no fiancée. No engagement. Not even a girlfriend the tabloids can dig up. Do you understand what’s at stake?” Damon’s jaw tightened. He had read the legacy contract a dozen times over the years—an archaic document crafted by his great-grandmother, Eleanor Caldwell, the matriarch and original architect of their fortune. It was her dying wish that the empire never fall into the hands of someone who lived only for power, money, or solitude. The clause was clear: the designated heir must be legally married by their thirty-second birthday to inherit Caldwell International Holdings. Otherwise, control would pass to the next eligible family member

"And your marriage contract had one very specific clause." Lucian frowned. "The heir clause?" Gregory Winslow leaned forward. "Yes. It's year three, Lucian. That clause states that before the fourth year, an heir must be produced. No child means the marriage dissolves—and both our families lose everything we've built." Caliste raised an eyebrow. "Lose everything? Isn't that a little dramatic?" Her father glared. "It's not a joke, Caliste. The Velmores and Winslows joined for global control of trade and investment. If this marriage falls apart, dozens of partnerships collapse."

Her hospital treatment costed a fortune, I could barely afford to even pay for the hospital bed talkless of her treatment. That was how I crossed paths with Dominic Knight, one thing led to another and we arrived at a contract. The terms were clear, I would carry his child and in return, a life changing sum of amount, five million dollars. The advantageos part was that I would never meet the father. I had to seize the opportunity, hoping that there would be no regrets at all.

Under his old pens and a box of cufflinks I'd never been able to give away. I didn't open it yet. I held it against my chest. "Your father fought for that contract," I said. "You don't remember. You were angry and you let his lawyers do it. But there's a clause. Clause eleven. About children." "It said no children." "It said no children were planned," I said. "And then it said what would happen if there was one." He was standing now. I hadn't seen him get up. "What would happen?" "Any child born from that marriage," I said, "would be your legal heir. First in line. The house. The shares. The company. Everything Hart."